The 24th Annual Hunger Games
by Squintz
Summary: Join Devon and her best friend Wes as they battle it out with bloodthirsty Tributes and a hungry Career pack in the 24th Annual Hunger Games! And see who has the will to win! T for graphicness.
1. Just a day with the family

The 24th Annual Hunger Games

A searing pain tears through my hands like nails on a chalkboard. Come to think of it, the pain had lasted all day, but I'd been too focused on picking to notice it, really. I'd been picking in the orchards all day, climbing atop the tallest trees, picking endless amounts of fruits. I looked out to the distance, keeping a single hand gripped around the branch above, and shielded my eyes from early evening's glare.

The flag is raised, and finally, it comes all the way into view. I whistle out a sweet, four note tune to the mocking-jays that nestle in our crops and orchards. They carry the notes around, telling the other workers it's quitting time. I ease my way to the trunk of the tree, looking down. It's a lovely 10 foot drop from up here. I shake away the nerve, gripping the trunk and easing myself down. When I'm about 2 feet off the ground, I decide to play it cool and jump down.

The sleeve of my jacket catches itself on a snag of leaves, forcing my wrist around as my feet hit the floor. I growl at myself under my breath. 'Stupid.' I insult myself through thought, seeing how it's much easier to do that than say it out loud when someone's right next to you. Wes strolls over, a smirk plastered to his face.

"Lucky you. Remember when that same branch caught me last year? My wrist was so broken." He chuckles, shaking his head.

He tenderly pulls the branch down a bit, untangling my sleeve from the mix of twigs and leaves. Ah, Wes. He'd always been so gentle. This was why we were best friends. He was _whatever_ he needed to be, _when_ he needed to be it. I smile at him.

"Thanks, Wes." He nods curtly, folding his sunglasses and dropping them in the open box that the Peacekeeper holds. I quickly drop my own pair in, following Wes. His large, graceful strides are so much different compared to my poor little mouse –sized steps.

Wes chuckles, pulling me under his arm to help me keep up the pace. He smiles, beginning to whistle the Capitol anthem just to get on my nerves. I shake my head, leaning against his side. He's so good to me, and we make a great team. Despite him being handsome with his brawny muscles, gorgeous blue eyes, and extreme height, he's not conceited. Wes is tall. And I'm not just saying it because most people are tall compared to my small size. He's tall. Wes measures up to '6"1. I only measure up to about '5"6. This is poor, for a 15 year old girl. Especially coming from District 11. Given the amount of sunlight and energy we're exposed to on a daily basis, unless it's raining, we're all tall and thin.

But we're nothing like Districts 1 and 2. Talk about height. They probably radiate the food they feed their Careers. Speaking of Careers… The Reaping is tomorrow. Wes shakes the short, wavy brown hair that falls in front of his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking about, Dev." He says quietly, stopping his whistling.

"I knew you'd know. You're crazy with that whole… 'Mind reading deal.'" I look up at him.

His hard, but handsome looks are featuring a confused sort of look.

"How many times is your name in?" He asks with his gentle tone, continuing to walk on. He doesn't look at me, this makes me uneasy.

"36." I say in a low tone.

I had always been the one to take tesserae for my family. My parents were too old to tesserae, and my youngest sister, Willow, was too little at the age of 3. My older sister, Anne, was just a mess. She got in to trouble constantly, wreaking havoc with a group of friends in District 11. She had never been picked once for a Reaping, and she was 17. Her name was only in there 7 times. And that was probably as low as it would stay for her this year, bumping up only once next year. And after that, she'd get her name pulled out for good.

Wes' name had only been put in 23. Luckily, that's good for a boy who's 16, especially one with 3 younger brothers, and 1 little sister. Wes only had a mother. His Father had been killed in public when he was accused of false murder. Later that year, the Peacekeepers caught the real criminal, and murdered him across the entire nation of Panem. The Capitol sent their apologies to Wes' family by giving them a two-year supply of food and a nicer house than most of the homes in District 11.

Wes looks down at my feet, then back up at me. We round the corner that leads down to our road. Our houses sit side-by-side on the end of the road. I can see the glow of lights emanating from my porch. When we get closer, I see my mother with Willow on her lap, sitting on the stairs, braiding her hair gently. Wes' mother is leaned against the stair rail, talking to my mother. We walk up close enough for them to see us, and Willow squeals, reaching for Wes.

"Mommy!" She screams, grabbing her hands at the air. My mother laughs, tying the end of Willow's hair with a bow, and letting her run at Wes.

Wes pulls his arm from around my shoulder, leaning down and scooping up Willow. She giggles, leaning her tiny head against his chest.

"Hi, Wes." My mother smiles, waving me over.

I plop down on the stair next to her, smiling up at Ms. Richt. She smiles back, her gorgeous white teeth coming out from behind their cover. Ms. Richt is beautiful. And she's young. She was only a teenager when she had Wes, but she still loves him more than anything. Her three younger boys are triplets, at the new ages of 12, and her youngest daughter is only 6.

Just then, the screen door on the porch whizzes open, and the boys come flying out with laughter. Then scramble down the 5 steps on the porch, tackling one another into the dirt. I chuckle.

"Hey! You're cheating!" Cy yells, snatching Logan up by the collar.

Cy is the tallest of the trio, and the strongest. In a way, he reminds me of Wes. Mostly from his looks. His auburn brown hair with simple, yet natural, waves, his blue eyes. They look so much like their father.

Logan growls, swinging his fists at Zander, who is laughing and pointing at Logan. Logan is constricted by Cy's hold, but judging by Cy's mischief, he'll most likely let go of Logan's collar at any minute. And he does. Logan flings himself at Zander, knocking him backwards. They tumble across the ground in a heap, laughing and enjoying their time. I smile. I wish I was a kid again. To have no worries at so little cost seems like ecstasy.

Ms. Richt picks the fight apart, telling the boys to go inside the house and wash up. Wes gently sets down Willow, then calls Lena's name. She opens the door quietly, walking down the steps. She gives my mother and I a sweet smile, then, resides behind Ms. Richt's leg. She'd always been the shyest of the family. A mirror image of her mother. Wes pulls me into a hug, then whispers into my ear.

"See you tomorrow, Devon. Happy Hunger Games." He trails off, leaving me to finish the sentence.

"And may the odds, be ever in your favor." I whisper back, smiling weakly.

Wes waves at Willow and my mother. "Bye, Willow. Bye, Mrs. Shields." He smiles, walking into the house after his mother and Lena. Willow shoots into our house, probably going to find my father. I shake my head, closing my eyes and burying my face into my palms. The Reaping had already come so fast. _Too _fast, actually. And it was only a year ago that I was watching District 11's Tributes get their heads hacked off on the first day of the 23rd Annual Hunger Games. I'd always wondered why years came and went so fast once you came of age 12. Now I knew perfectly well. It was because the Games were designed to make you think about it so much it burned a hole in the back of your mind and haunted you until the Reaping.

Until you saw that poor little boy or girl get chosen to be sent to their death. To be broadcasted live all over Panem.

"Thinking about it again, Devon?" My mother asks me, using her silky smooth voice.

She wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards her. I nod in blunt silence. "Yeah… What if my name gets chosen?" I ask quietly.

"I won't have a chance. And then you'll be left with Anne, who will probably throw you into more chaos than now." I frown, rambling on. My mother scowls, her sweet tone still remaining solid.

"Now Devon, that's no way to speak about yourself. You know better than to doubt your skill. Your father taught you how to hunt for a reason, you know. You're a strong girl. And even if you were chosen, I'm sure you could win." She says quietly, twining her fingers through loose strands of my hair.

"I'm not very good at anything, though." I shake my head, resting it on her shoulder.

"Yes you are. You can throw knives better than anyone I've seen before." She says with her soft voice. "Why don't you just get some rest, sweetheart?" She asks, helping me up as she slowly rises.

"We'll worry about this tomorrow." She assures me, opening the door and ushering me into my "bedroom".

It's really just a corner of the house's front room with our "beds" crammed in it. My "bedroom" is an old mattress, shoved up into the corner. Blankets lie strewn across it, as well as a couple of pillows. Across from my bed lies Willow's crib, where she now sleeps soundly. My mother and father slept in the only real bedroom in the house, where they had a nice little bed to reside in. My older sister, Anne, slept on a cot that was placed under the window. She lie on her stomach, her pillow resting over her head. Only revealing a mop of straying blonde locks and a single stand of auburn brown hair.

I settle down on the withered old mattress, hugging my pillow close to me as my mother kissed my forehead, pulling the sheets up over me. She tip-toed from the room, gently closing her bedroom door and flicking the light off. I knew my father was most likely asleep as well; otherwise the light would've been left on so my parents could talk. I bury my head in my pillow, crying silently as fear overcomes me, forcing me to tremble and sob. I don't know how long I cry, but it feels like an eternity until I finally fall asleep. I dream of nothing but my name being called during the Reaping. Over and over and over again…


	2. Where's the Volunteer?

Chapter 2

I awake the next morning to the smell of burnt toast, cheap sizzling eggs, and fresh oranges. My family's typical Reaping day breakfast. I always found it sickening how on the day I never wanted to eat, they insisted on making it the best breakfast of the entire year.

It was the day, though. The Reaping. I heave myself from the mattress, walking into the bathroom. My sister, Anne, is out of bed, since her cot is empty. And Willow must be in the kitchen with my parents. I turn on the rusty shower head, watching the water weakly pour out of the mechanism. I stand under the cold water for a quick 5 minutes, swiftly washing my hair.

When I get out, I roughly run a towel through my auburn brown hair, then battle tangles and knots with a brush. I pull out some hair ties, pulling my hair through them and pushing it into a nice, long ponytail. I put on a white shirt and a gray skirt, tucking the shirt underneath the skirt.

I walk into the kitchen, staring at my family. They all look like rabid coyotes, challenged with hygiene. They're gnawing down on all the food, battling over food. Willow and Anne get into a tug-of-war over a single piece of toast. I then decide I'm not hungry. At all.

"I'm going early." I declare, opening the door and slamming it behind me as I take off to Wes.

He's already walking out the door when I smash into him, pulling him into a long, silent embrace. When we finally break apart, I speak out.

"The odds aren't in my favor. I had the dream." I whisper, letting him hug me again.

I hear nothing but silence in reply. Wes' way of silence calms me, even when I want words. Even now, it works.

He pulls from the embrace again, taking my hand. We walk side by side to the Reaping, where we pile into separate check-in lines. It's a mess of people, but it goes by quickly. The woman takes my hand roughly in her black gloves, jabbing my finger with a needle. I shake a bit, having always hated needles. She presses my bloody finger to the paper, then scans it, and shoos me away.

I mix in with the crowd of 15 year old girls on the right, watching Wes shove his way effortlessly through the boy's side. A grim look covers his face, and his wavy brown hair hangs in front of his eyes. I still can't help but grin at his gorgeous looks. Even when he's worried he looks fantastic.

I'm snapped into reality when Sirasis stumbles up on stage. I roll my eyes. '_Why __can't someone tell her how ridiculous she looks?_ ' I think, shaking my head. She wears a turquoise outfit with a corset and a skirt. Her wig is blue as well, but an ugly powder blue. And her lips stand out bright blue on her snow colored face. I sigh, then listen in as the Capitol's stupid video ends.

"Well, let's begin, shall we?" She smiles, dropping a hand in the bowl and waving it around for a bit. When she's finally content with her position, she plunges her hand into the bowl and pulls out a little white card. Sirasis Plink pulls off the little strip of black tape, waltzes over to the microphone, and clears her throat.

A chill runs down my spine, and then everyone's looking at me. I tilt my head curiously, having no idea what's just happened. And then, all of a sudden, I hear my name.

"Devon, Devon Shields? Where are you, love?" She asks. It's all I can do to not puke. I stumble forward, getting a gentle push from behind the girls.

It's as if the world itself has actually stopped. I look around, waiting for a volunteer that will never come forward. You know what they say: Silence kills. _'And so does waiting...' _I think to myself bluntly as I find myself being helped on stage by some not-so-amused Peacekeepers.

"Now, love. Just come on up." Sirasis smiles, holding out her hand.

I emotionlessly deny it, helping myself climb the rest of the stairs. I stand blankly in front of the girls' bowl, looking around.

"Let's have a round of applause for our female Tribute, Devon Shields!" Sirasis grins stupidly.

In a way, she's evil, but she's not. She's evil, but she doesn't try to be... I look around, receiving no applause, but only solemn, gruesome looks of grief. And then, Sirasis abandons my side for the boys' bowl. I can't wait to be abandoned in the Arena, and left to die... Sarcasm...


	3. When Friends become Threats

Chapter 3

Sirasis pulls out the slip, but Wes beats her to it. "Landon B-".

She can barely finish before Wes is running up on stage, screaming: "I volunteer! I volunteer!"

I almost slap him, the impulse taking over. Why would he do that? I'll have to kill my best friend in the Arena! Great! I frown, crossing my arms.

Wes snags the microphone from Sirasis.

"I'm Wes. Wes Richt." He then jabs it back at Sirasis, and drags me into a hug.

As hard as I try, I can't stay mad at him. He's my best friend, what am I gonna do?

I'm tugged from his embrace, being pulled forwards. "Ladies and gentlemen, your District 11 Tributes: Devon Shields and Wes Richt." Sirasis smiles, grabs our arms, and shoves us into the Justice Building.

I'm pushed into a simple room with dark light. Dark wooden walls and black leather furniture. There's only one window. I stare out it, leaning against the wall.

'_No one volunteered...' _I think to myself. _'That means you're the underdog... Everyone's already counting you out... But you'll make them see...' _I think to myself, a wry grin crawling across my complexion. Then, the door to the room swings open, and my family comes in.

Willow cries, toddling over and grabbing my leg, weeping into it. My parents are silent, staring at the ground. I stare at Anne, who stares at my shoes, then notices my staring, then looks back down. I walk over, handing Willow off to my mother, who doesn't know how wrong she was.

I jab a finger at the delinquent that is my sister. "You can't go on a chaos streak again." I snarl, grabbing her wrist when she turns away in silence.

"Look at me! Listen!" I practically yell, twisting her head to face me.

Her jade green eyes are watering. "You need to be good to them. Tesserae. I've always had to do it... Now's your time." I growl at her, gripping her shoulders as hard as I can.

She nods blankly, tears rolling down her eyes. I nod, then turn to my parents. "Dad, just keep collecting... For the family..." I say quietly, looking down as he hugs me tight.

He nods, brushing my hair with his gentle fingers. I close my eyes, forcing myself not to cry.

"Keep working, even if I..." I trail off, not able to say the word...

I'm torn from my embrace when a Peacekeeper comes in.

"Time's up." He yells pulling us apart and dragging my parents, a screaming Willow, and a sobbing Anne from the room.

"Tesserae, Anne!" I cry desperately as the door slams shut.

I reach for the handle, but jerk my hand back as Wes swings the door open.

"Devon." He says quietly, grabbing me and pulling me against him.

I begin to cry, breaking down in a mess of tears. He pulls back, pressing his forehead to mine, his ocean blue eyes sparkling with tears.

"We can do this, you know... I'm smart... You have skill..." He says in his calm tone, stroking my hair, running his fingers through it.

He repeats his first line over again, then hugs me. The Peacekeeper comes in again, tearing us apart, and leading us into the train that will lead us into the Capitol. Where we will live... Or die... And the odds, will be ever in our favor.


	4. On The Train

Chapter 4

I look around desperately as the people of District 11 watch Wes and I shuffle into the train. The sun bounces off the aluminum shell of the train, practically blinding me. Little yellow splotches fill my vision until we're engulfed by the cool air and dull light of the train. _'What... The... Hell?'_ I think as I stare at the awkward chairs on the train. They're a reddish velvet color with black studs all around the edges. I shake my head, rolling my eyes. The Capitol is so weird.

I feel like they constantly have to embarrass themselves to be pleased with the things they live in, wear, or even eat. Sirasis leads us over to four little blue chairs, sitting us down. I look out the window, ignoring her stupid smile and blunt explanation of rules on the train. She stands up, brushing off her skirts in a fashion that _really_ annoys me.

"I'll go find Miss Vella. She's probably in the television room." She says with her cheesy accent, disappearing through the automatic doors of the car.

"I'm pissed at you." I blurt out to Wes, turning to see him with puffy red eyes, a grieving look plastered to his face, and his pupils pooling with voids of sadness.

I try to focus in on what he's looking at... But it's no use. He looks up, sniffing briefly.

"I wasn't thinking... I was an idiot... I am... An idiot." He says grimly, his sea blue eyes coming up to meet mine.

They're bloodshot. And I can't believe I didn't notice his crying. _'You're crying now, and neither of us are dead yet?' _I think harshly.

He's made me so upset, that my mind's become clouded with angry thoughts at him. I sigh, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I can't stay mad at you, though... We'll stick together. We can make it..." I say quietly, letting him run his fingers through my hair, catching no tangles. Tears roll down my cheeks, but I quickly swipe them away with the sleeve of my jacket as someone, who must be the mentor, walks in.

"Hi there, Tributes." She smiles, her appearance actually normal, not mutant, like the Capitol people.

"Hi." Wes says emptily, bringing his gaze up from his shoes to meet the girl's eyes.

She's tall and thin, like most of us from District 11. She has long, flowing, blonde hair that goes down to her waist with some brown streaks running through it. I smile at her, seeing how kind she is.

"Hello." I greet her, offering her a hand to shake.

She gladly accepts, leading us to the table. "You must be hungry. Please, come sit." She says sweetly, pulling chairs out for us.

We both sit thankfully, resting our shaken legs.

"So, I'll be your Mentor for these Games. My name's Vella." She says, beginning to nibble on a pastry that looks like a muffin and a cinnamon roll mixed together.

Not that I've ever been able to eat something that nice... I've just found myself lurking around the bakery when I'm hungry, drooling as I press my face to the display window.

I smile, returning her kind tone. "I'm Devon, that's Wes, my best friend." I say, gesturing to a shaken Wes that sits next to me.

A hollow shell of him is all that remains. He just silently stares at the place mat on the table, occasionally blinking. I frown, seeing the jade green in Vella's eyes twist with her own frown as she looks at the broken Wes who sits next to me.

"Wes!" I practically scream, my hands curling into fists.

He blinks hard, looking around, suddenly alert. "H-What?" He stutters, turning to Vella and I.

"O-Oh... Sorry. I was kind of dazed..." He said quietly, roughing his hands through his mane of light brown waves. He sighs, finally coming fully into focus.

"So..." Vella says quietly, trying to rid the heap of silence that fills the air. "Any specialties?" She asks, gently using a fork to prod at a tiny meat piece.

I stare at her a bit, analyzing her looks. She has a scar across her forehead, barely visible, but there. Probably from her Games. She's young, too. About... 20. I consider that my safe guess. Wes' face lights up, his pupils growing.

"Devon can throw knives like a Career!" He exclaims, giving us a silly arm gesture.

I tilt my head at Vella, who looks at me with a smile.

"Thanks, Wes." I giggle, my cheeks igniting a fiery red.

He returns the smile, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth.

"Fantastic!" Vella laughs, running a hand down a few strands of her hair.

"And how about you, Wes?" Vella asks, adjusting the skirt on her little yellow dress. It goes well with her tanned skin and the array of golden rings around her wrists. I laugh, pointing to Wes.

"Wes! He can throw spears like there's no tomorrow! Look!" I say excitedly, grabbing him by the upper arm and flexing it. Muscle and veins pop from his skin, proving my point.

Vella smiles honestly, resting her chin on her palms.

"Very intriguing Tributes this year... And you say you two are best friends?" She asks, cocking her head in a curious form of possession.

I nod in confirmation, Wes tries saying something, but spits bread crumbs all over the table. We all fall silent, staring at him. Then, the room is filled with laughter. Even Sirasis laughs, wiping at her eyes. Laughter is a rare thing, here in Panem. But, I suppose even in the hands of your immanent death, you can find time for some humor. Right?

"How good are you, Devon? On a scale of one to ten?" Sirasis asks nosily, ever-so-gently brushing her fingers against her poofy hair.

"Uh..." I'm cut off by Wes, who jolts up in his chair. _'Uh, great... Here goes the arrogance train...' _I think snarkily, looking down.

"Devon is an 11! She never misses her targets! Ever! She's fantastic! I can't believe her skill!" He exclaims loudly, spitting out more food onto the table.

"Okay, and how about you, Wes?" She asks, twirling her finger through her hair.

"I guess I'm a-" He's cut off by me, this time.

"Wes can throw axes better than he throws spears!" I blurt out in a yell, nodding quickly and continuously.

His eyes widen in surprise, knowing that I just told two people his biggest secret. Knowing how to throw axes in District 11 was somewhat a crime... It was illegal to teach children to use weaponry unsupervised if they were not a Career. Plus, usually, only Tributes from District 7 knew this skill. But Wes totally outdid them in this skill. It was his strength. Overshadowing his spear throwing by a lot of skill.

He shrugs. "I... Uh... I guess I'm okay..." He says bluntly, looking around.

Hours pass before we arrive _halfway_ to the Capitol, and by then, it's dark out. Sirasis leads us to our own cars, but only after showing us recaps of the Reaping in the television room.

I sit on the couch, my legs pulled to my chest with Wes leaning on my shoulder. Vella switches on the television, immediately showing us the District 1 Tributes. A scary girl with short black hair named Evon volunteers for a littler girl, striding on stage like a champion. My heart skips a beat. Really? The best girl in all of District 1 has to volunteer this year? Out of all the years?

The boy is practically twice her size, probably standing at 6'4. I shudder, chills running down my spine. The Tributes from District 2 are similar, but less intimidating. The girl's name, awkward as it sounds, is Kaige. And the boy, her brother, Ace. Both seem equally as threatening, and both measure up to about 5'9. All the other Tributes are typical, like me. Reaped, but not volunteered for.

And then we get to a surprise. A volunteer from District 6. A boy named Gunner. He's tall, easily Wes' height. I begin to wonder what the Capitol has been sending out to the Districts that we don't get to mutate the kids. I shake the thoughts away, listening in. District 7 is typical. Probably just two ax wielders.

Another surprise comes from District 8. A freakishly tall girl named Drift with short brown hair and multiple scars across her arms. I guess she's beaten frequently at home. No wonder she volunteered... District 9 offers a skinny, short girl named Harper with curly blonde hair that goes down past her shoulders and a boy who's about the age of 12, who wanders on stage blindly. A blind kid? Really? Wow. People are really heartless here in Panem.

Then, from District 10, two close friends, I'm guessing. A girl named Cypress and a boy named Ty who seems like he has a terrible temper. The way he storms up on the stage, his face bright red. I sigh, fear overcoming me again as a tear rolls down my face.

Then, from our District, Wes and I. I see myself bluntly stumble onto the stage, stupidly blinking over and over in surprise. Then Wes desperately volunteer for that Landon boy. Just to stick by my side. I sigh, then focus in on the surprise from District 12. Wow. So many surprises this year. A girl named Ember and a boy named Rifter. What a couple of appropriate names for a couple of miners.

Vella shuts off the television, letting Sirasis lead us into our rooms.

I stare at the ceiling when I lie in bed, blinking to try and adjust my eyes to the dark, but it's no use. I can't sleep. Then, the door clicks open and Wes walks in wearing a pair of sweat pants and a white tank top. He sits on the bed next to me, staring down at me.

"I know you're awake, Dev. I can't sleep." He says, lying down next to me. I nod, keeping silent, then speaking out.

"Yeah... I'm tired, but I can't sleep. I miss Willow..." I say solemnly.

"I miss Cy... And Logan... And Zander. And my little Lena..." He says, shaking his head.

I feel his fingers twine with mine, and then, I finally feel calm enough to sleep. We talk for a while longer, until finally, I manage to fall asleep. I feel safer, knowing Wes is there next to me. And I have no dreams, thankfully. But in my sleep, I still think about the Games... And I don't know how I'll hold up... Or if I will. But, hey. That's why they say the odds are in your favour, right?


	5. Arriving in the Capitol

**Sorry updates have been so slow, guys! I've been trying to juggle 3 things at once xD Anyway, read, favorite, review, enjoy :) ~Squintz**

Chapter 5

I'm awoken to the unpleasant, obnoxious, and loud voice of Sirasis yelling my name. I roll over, stuffing the pillow in my ears, but she's still too loud. I sit up, still constrained a bit by Wes' arm around my waist, but I smile.

"What?" I yell back at her, rolling my eyes.

The yelling ceases for a moment, then continues in her response. "Get dressed and take a shower! We're arriving at the Capitol in an hour!" She adds before darting off. I wonder if she knows Wes is in here...

I look down to Wes, who sleeps soundly. Strands of auburn brown hair swept in front of his eyes. I get up silently, careful not to disturb him, and take a quick shower. I throw on a little green top, and some white jeans, then dry my hair, run a brush through it, and pull it into a nice little ponytail. By the time I finally emerge from the steaming bathroom, Wes is awake.

He lies on his back, blinking hard at me, his head rested on the pillow, turned to its side.

"What's the occasion?" He asks, rubbing his eyes as he yawns sleepily.

"We're arriving at the Capitol in like, 30 minutes." I laugh, carefully pushing a little silver stud through my ear.

Wes huffs as he gets out of bed, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, well I better go get ready, then." He chuckles, giving me a nudge to the shoulder as he strolls from my room. I hear Sirasis notice him, beginning to lecture him about timing.

I exit my room, closing the door and walking down to the dining cart. Sirasis sits at the table with Vella, conversing the Gamemakers. I grab a plate, putting on a small portion of eggs, then a little muffin, and sitting down at the table.

"Good morning, Devon." Vella smiles at me. I smile back.

"Good morning." I give a nod in respect, then turn as I shoot a grimace at Sirasis, who is cleaning the last bit of toast from her plate... With a fork... I look up as a messy Wes enters the dining cart, instantly grabbing some toast and near choking himself to death as he shoves it down his throat.

"Gpood morshning." He smiles at Vella and Sirasis.

But mostly Sirasis, with his mouthful of food, roughly combing out his hair while he gnawed on his toast. Vella giggles, and Sirasis flashes a grim shade of red. Wes pulls up a chair, and sits down. Just as he does, the train lurches forward and stalls. I smile.

"The Capitol..." I whisper, standing and walking to the window. We pass through a tunnel, zooming along the tracks like a blade on ice. Then, I see the buildings. Tall, enormous buildings, scratching against the sky.

I stare in awe at the magnificent buildings. I heard the Capitol was great during interviews of Victors after the Games, but I never knew it was this amazing...

"Oh, we're here! This is so exciting!" Sirasis shouts, standing, clapping her bright purple gloves together, and smiling. Outside the window, Capitol citizens of every color crowd the station, screaming and cheering for us. The two best friends.

I feel like I'll puke... These people actually think we're excited for the Games. Excited to die. And they're actually choosing Tributes and teams and Districts to root for. _'Disgusting people...' _If I can even call them that...

Wes helps me keep my balance as we walk out into the bright sunlight. I shield my eyes, not only avoiding the sun's glare, but the horrible brightness of the Capitol people, who have been surgically altered to have bright purple skin, or green, or red sparkles on their cheeks. Anything weird, I guess. Their make-up is just as wild. Bright yellow blush, bright pink eyeliner, even bright blue. Such as Sirasis' outfits. I stare in awe at the rainbow of color in front of me. It's like they enjoy the fact that we know we're going to die in about 4 days.

Wes and I wave until we both can fake an encouraging smile. We laugh and he tugs me against his side, under his arm. The crowd whoops and cheers, sending their arms up and applauding, even. Okay, so maybe they don't know as much as we claim them to know... They actually seem stupid enough.

But still, the show must go on. Let the 24th Annual Hunger Games begin! And the odds, are ever in my favour...


	6. Chariot Night

**This part takes place the next day. I'm sorry that updates have been slow, I just been crazy busy xD Anyway, read, review, favorite, subscribe. Enjoy! ~Squintz**

Chapter 6

Wes and I are in the training room, throwing axes and knives, when our Preparation Team strides in. Their heads held high, tools in hands. They separate Wes and I, sweeping me off into another room. It's darker in there, with low light. Thankfully, since there were only few people using the training room at the time, I'm sure no one saw us being taken away like that. I shrug, staying put.

"Hello, Devon. I'm Cadderrick." A kind, low, and gravelly voice says from the side of the room. I hear the low footsteps on the concrete floor approaching me.

"But you can just call me Derrick, if you'd like." The voice says, and I sit up on the lit table, seeing a tall, muscular man standing in front of me.

He has a head full of normal colored black hair, with a few streaks of brown in it, and actually normal colored skin. I lift my eyebrows in surprise. As the rest of the Prep Team are different shades of light purple, pink, and green, Cadderrick stuck with his natural tone. I applaud him for that, in my head. So the Capitol people can be a bit normal! That makes little sense, but it'll do for now.

"Nice to meet you guys," I smile at the Prep Team.

I watch the blood redheaded girl, I think her name is Aayla, with light green skin dips a stick in some pale sticky liquid, then wipes it on a white strip of paper. Tilting my head, I watch as the short man with purple skin cross the room, help slab some more paste on another strip of paper, then stick it on my leg.

"What's tha-AAAAAAAAT?" I scream in pain as she tears the thin strip from my leg. I reach my hands to my head and grab my hair, tugging it hard.

"Oh, we really need to do something about that..." Cadderrick folds his arms, pressing his thumb and index finger to his jaw. He snaps his fingers, then sits me up.

Letting Aayla continue to rip the skin off my legs... Or at least that's what it feels like... He pulls my hair from its ponytail, then starts to brush out my hair.

"For Chariot Night tonight, you're going to look fabulous!" The second girl redheaded girl exclaims with glee.

I believe she goes by Sparkle, judging by the sparkling gems that are encrusted in her face. Anyway, the prep team is getting me dressed up and fancy, when the Careers strode past with their hair done all fancy and their makeup making them look fierce, yet edifying. Shivers creep up my spine as the last piece of paper rips across my skin and Cadderrick leads me into a chair.

He brushes my hair some more, straightening it and letting it fall over my shoulders. It looks amazing. But the outfits look so much better.

"So what're the outfits?" Wes asks, waltzing over in only boxer shorts.

I can't help but giggle and blush. He shoots me a smile and a quick chuckle, then turns to Cadderrick. "Well, usually, you guys do something simple like agriculture. But I think I want to put a spin on that." Cadderrick smiles, then pulls us both into a room with bright lights and a ton of mirrors.

Cadderrick presses a button, then two enormous mirrors separate and reveal two amazing outfits. They're green, covered with amazing sparkles and different patterns of purple and yellow and blue that blossom into tiny little flower buds. I smile and hug Cadderrick tight.

"They're gorgeous!" I laugh, then he helps us dress into them.

_Later_

The chariot zooms out behind District 10, pulling us at top speed. Our outfits flow behind us, creating a blooming effect and the crowd comes onto their feet and cheer as loud as possible. Wes smiles and wave. I blow kisses and smile even brighter, beaming and waving at all the Capitol citizens around us. The chariot slides to a quick stop and I look at the outfits. They've completely blossomed into real flowers, not just flower buds. And the end of the dress, that is cut off at my middle thigh, is completely decorated with the gorgeous flowers.

President Fox draws my attention as he steps onto his podium, raising his hands into the air. "Welcome, young Tributes!" He booms, then begins his epic speech.

To end it, he laughs and yells: "Let the 24th Annual Hunger Games begin! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" He then steps down from his post, leaving the crowd cheering and screaming.

At this point, I'm ecstatic. The Capitol isn't as bad as I thought, and every day just gets better. Things are becoming more fortunate... And the odds seem to be more and more in my favor every minute...


	7. Training with Evon

**Sorry for the slow updates, again! I'm trying hard, but since I have practice so often and all these contests for my sport, I have to be practicing a lot! Anyway, Read, Review, Favorite, and Subscribe! ~Squintz **

Chapter 7

Wes throws an axe, and it lodges right in the face of a dummy. I smile in awe, then grab 7 knives off the rack behind Wes and I. I pull the first one back, then launch it forward, sending it right into the chest of another dummy. Quickly, I alternate each knife into my other hand and throw them all at the target. Each land neatly in a circle around the first knife, and Wes begins to clap. I grin ear to ear, taking a few bows.

"Don't get too cocky yet, you aren't in the Arena." He chuckles, giving me a nudge.

"Well when I get in there... I'll be someone else..." I declare, turning to grab more knives.

Instead, I see the Career girl from District 1. Evon. She has her arms folded across her chest, and she's standing like she's unamused with me. I reach for a knife behind her, but she grabs my wrist. I struggle to tear it away, but her lock on me is too tight to challenge.

"Tsk, tsk. Looks like someone's a little too young to be handling knives, right guys?" Evon laughs to her Career pack that stands behind her, and they laugh along with her. Evon smirks at me, then shoves me backwards onto the floor.

"Hey!" Wes yells, pulling me off the floor.

"Listen, you shouldn't be doing this. Save it for the Arena!" I growl, clenching my hands into fists.

"Or what? You'll tattle me to death?" Evon snickers, grabbing 3 knives from the rack and slamming all three into the dummy's face at once. Each lands perfectly poised in the forehead.

"Hmmm... Rings the bell of an idea I had in mind for a certain little girl..." Evon purrs, tracing her sharp fingernail along my jaw, "But her name escapes me at the moment, _Devon_..."

Evon licks her lips in pleasure when she notices my bottom lip trembling. I've decided in this mere 5 minutes, that I hate Evon. I hate the Hunger Games. I hate my life. I hate Panem. I hate District 1. I hate Careers. I hate Sirasis. I hate the Capitol. I hate Evon. And I _really_ hate President Fox. All the hatred sinks in as Evon walks away. When I finally crack, I charge at the vicious girl.

I lunge, tackling Evon from behind. She swings around as I cling to her and twist her torso sideways. She sways down, then collapses in a screaming and fitting heap on the floor. I growl, pushing my fist to her cheek.

"Listen, Evon..." I mutter, knowing all eyes in the training room are locked on me, "This is my short little demonstration on how to watch your back. You get it? Cruel humor!" I scoff, now screaming in her face.

"I'll see you in hell, Evon!" I roar as Wes and Vella are suddenly behind me, dragging me off of her.

She gets up grumbling, then begins to throw knives again. There's a hushed murmur between all the Tributes, but it fades as I'm pulled to the wall and spoken to by my mentor.

"What the hell was that? Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" Wes screams at me in a whisper.

"Wes! Calm down, it was instinct! Evon attacked first, so she could receive punishment. But, we will not tell anyone this happened, or it'll come back to Devon in the Arena and rip her apart..." Vella defends me, holding her hand on my shoulder.

Wes roughs up a fake smile. "Good to know we already have someone on the threat list."

Yeah... I already have a full threat roster! I almost yell my thoughts, but refuse to show weakness. That can only result in a slow, painful demise. I huff and shake my head.

"I won't tell anyone... It's Wes you have to worry about," I tease, walking off and picking up some more knives.

I throw so aggressively that I hit the targets every time. Vella, standing aside from me, watches and smiles at my amazing display of Career style skill. I know she's eager for tomorrow. Training Scores.


	8. Quite The Surprise

**Here's Training Scores for Devon! Excited? It should be epic. Hope you like it! Please Review :) Enjoy! ~Squintz**

Chapter 8

I strode carelessly into the Training Room. Which is now emptied up and only has a tray propped by three legs sitting in the middle of the room. A couple yards ahead, training dummies, and to the right, a giant room for the Capitol People to sit. I stop, giving them a respectful bow.

"Devon Shields. District 11." I announce, watching as they stop their conversation about the past Arenas and watch me.

I roll my eyes, walking to the tray and scooping up a good handful of about 10 knives. I whip my wrist forward, flinging each knife at the three dummies furthest away from me. Each dummy gets three knives, and the last one I throw sideways, cutting off one dummy's entire head. The Capitol people stare at me in awe, their mouths wide open.

I throw another knife, lodging it right into the wall above this year's Gamemaker's head. He screams, then goes silent. I grin at him, then they all stare at me in silence.

"Thank you, for your rowdy applause. You're all such an inspiration." I scoff, turning and walking out.

The Capitol is silent, and then Wes goes into the room. I run into the hallway of the building, swerving a corner and smacking right into Sirasis. Ugh... Great. Just who I don't ever want to see.

"Oh, Devon, _darling!_ Vella's waiting in the back rooms!" She gushes, pushing me to the black door.

I huff, and against my will, enter the room. I stare at Vella, who sits eagerly against the couch, glaring at the television. I sit down beside her, resting my elbows on my knees.

"How'd you do?" She asks frantically, grabbing my shoulder. I can see the desperate glint in her eyes as she gropes for my answer.

"I threw a knife at the Head Gamemaker." I say dryly, turning back to the television.

Wes enters the room right after me, and then Sparks Flickerman appears on screen. He begins the summary of what the Training Scores are for, then grins as the Capitol seal spins behind him in the background. Then, Evon's face appears behind him in the background, her Training Score swirling around her face.

No surprise there. She gets an 11. Then there's a nine, two tens, a six and a nine, two sixes, two fives, a seven and an eight, two fives again, a seven and a nine, an eight, and a seven, and a five and an eight. Then, Wes' face appears on screen, and a solid 10 appears next to his face.

"That's how you do it!" Wes exclaims, jumping into the air and fist pumping.

My face appears on screen, and Sparks' face changes from smiling, to confused. "And... Devon Shields... With a score of... 12..." He says, tilting his head.

"Yeah! Yes!" I scream, jumping up and down and tackling Wes back onto the couch, I laugh, then roll aside and hug Vella tight.

I jump back onto Wes, pinning him to the couch. "Allies?" I smile.

"Allies." He winks.


	9. Interviews And Confessions

**I am so glad I have this whole story written down... I would've forgotten it, had I not written it down... I mean, it's been like... Fo'eva since I updated this xD Notice my epic slang right there. Yup ;) That's District Two Swaqqa... See what I did there? XD With... With the q's? Uh.. Anyway, review, tell me your thoughts, and enjoy! :D ~Squintzizzle (Hehe... More swag...)**

Chapter 9

Just what I dread most is coming... Only tomorrow. The Games are coming. Tonight, we're having interviews! So, Cadderrick and the prep team are fixing me up. I watch in the mirror as some girl in a little emerald green dress stares back at me. Her hair is worn down in a simple, straightened fashion. I notice it's me, but I look years older. Like a woman. Like a civilized person. I smile.

"It's fantastic." I nod as Cadderrick slips a purple flower into my hair.

"Thank you," I giggle, hugging him tight.

The minute I release him, it's finally time for my interview. They let us get ready late, so the waiting wouldn't take so long... My name echoes out through the microphone and I'm pushed out onto the stage. I keep my head held high, trying to walk out in these high heels. 'Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot...' I think, closing my eyes in relief as I reach the little white armchair. I sit down, ruffling the skirt and crossing my legs.

"Hello there, Miss Shields." Sparks smiles, and I chuckle.

"It's Devon. You can just call me Devon." I correct, hearing the sudden whoops and cheers from the Capitol audience.

It seems like they take stupid jokes as the best type of humor.

"Oh, well then, Devon." He smiles, pulling his shin over his other leg, then holding it tight.

"How do you feel? Eager for tomorrow, or?" He laughs, scratching his glittery red hair.

"I'm ready. I'm very ready, I'm strong, I'm smart, and I always find a way. I'm a good friend, but a better enemy." I smirk, flashing a knowing look.

Sparks places a hand over his heart. "Well, you seem very strong. Speaking of which, word in the Capitol is that you had a little scuffle in the Training Room, correct?" He asks, placing his hand over my arm.

"Yes, actually. But I wasn't the one to start it." I reply, holding a straight face.

"Exactly? Well, then let's review the footage." He points to a screen, descending from the ceiling.

I growl under my breath. Hidden cameras in the Training Room? How untrustworthy can you get in Panem? Ridiculous. I watch the video, though. Evon shooting insults, me tackling her. I sigh as there are even more claps and cheers from the crowd. I can imagine Evon in the back room right now, scowling at me.

"You are quite the devil in the Arena!" He exclaims, clapping and smiling.

He asks me more questions. About my mother, about my little sister, about home. Then, I'm done, and Wes goes on stage. I watch the television in the back, noting Evon is nowhere in sight... Good. I watch as Wes wins the Capitol over with shy, sweet attitudes. Just how he really is. He smiles, waving to the crowd, and Sparks pops a final question.

"So, Wes... We're all dying to know... Is there any special girl?" He asks, grinning cheekily and giving my best friend's arm a nudge.

"Oh, no, actually. She's here right now. You wanna meet her?" Wes laughs.

"Oh, sure! Why not?" Sparks laughs, hearing the screams of approval from the crowd.

Suddenly, Wes is backstage, grabbing me and carrying me on stage. I look around as the lights fill my eyes again, and I blink hard. The crowd screams and laughs as Wes gives me an enormous kiss. He sits me down in the chair, then smiles at Sparks.

"Sparks, this is my special girl. Devon Shields!" Wes announces, picking me up and spinning me around.

The crowd goes nuts, and Sparks claps and cheers as well. I close my eyes, and feel myself stop spinning when Wes pulls me against him. He waves to the crowd, and I just stand there silently, a blank look plastered to my face. Sparks claps a final time, then nods his head.

"Well, time to move on to District Twelve! Thank you for introducing me!" Sparks laughs, waving as Wes lifts me up and carries me offstage again.

When he sets me down, I clench my fists at my sides. He smiles sheepishly at me, and then breaks into a run down the hall. I run after him, leaping through the elevator doors right before they close. I can hear Vella and Sirasis yelling at us from the lower floor, and the banging on the doors. I shove Wes to the wall, glaring up at him. The elevator moves along, and we're silent.

"What're you gonna do?" He asks with a little boyish look in his sparkling ocean eyes.

I collapse against his chest, letting out a sigh. "Nothing... Sorry... I just had that whole tough girl thing going on. Now they think you're my weakness... And I'm yours... So they'll try to kill you..." I whisper, keeping my cheek pressed to his chest as he strokes my hair to calm me down.

"It's okay, we don't want it to come down to the two of us, anyway..." He whispers, picking me up as the doors open and carrying me into my room.

He sets me gently on the bed, then lies next to me. I turn to my side, staring at him. He rests his head on his hands behind his head, and looks up at the ceiling in silence. I play with his green glitter dotted hair, and he smiles. I stop, then put my hands under my pillow.

"Is it true?" I ask quietly.

"Is what true?" He asks, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at me with caring eyes.

"What you said... About me... Being your special girl..." I say in a tiny voice.

"Do I lie?" He asks, pressing his hand to my cheek. He leans forward and pushes his forehead to mine.

We both close our eyes. "Sometimes." I giggle quietly, then hear the door shoot open.

I sit up quickly, and Wes does the same. A streak of light shines through the dark room, and Vella yells.

"You didn't hurt eachother, did you?!" She scowls at us, clenching her fists at her sides.

I can tell she'd been running up the stairs, instead of taking the elevator. She's sweating and panting. No surprise there. In her Games, she wasn't the best runner... She still isn't even though she's in fantastic shape.

"No." Wes replies coolly, lying down again.

"Good." Vella huffs, sitting down.

"You two better sleep well... Tomorrow's a big day." She whispers, getting up and pulling the sheets over Wes and I.

She walks from the room, shutting the door behind her. We're left alone in the dark silence for a while, and I'm about to drift off when I hear something. It's Wes talking. And his voice catches me by surprise... But I listen closely.

"You'll win..."

Then, I fall into sleep. A dark, dreamless void of sleep.


	10. Welcome To Hell, Population: Me

**Evon: -Saw Voice- Wanna play a game? Devon: Uh... Sure? Evon: Alright... Let the Games, begin! -Random Hunger Games horn- Devon: -Kicks Evon's head off and wins- That was easy! ANYWAY, don't you wish it was that easy? I hope Devon doesn't have too tough of a time in the Arena. But here it is... The day... You've all been waiting for... Good luck. :3 Enjoy! ~Squintz**

Chapter 11

I'm sitting in a low light room, looking out to the wall, when Cadderrick walks in. He strides across the room in silence, and presses his lips to the top of my head. I stand up, pulling him into a bear hug. He squeezes me tight, and then pulls away. Pulling out a light gray jacket, he slides it on over my white shirt. Then, he takes a tank top and stuffs it in my pocket. He zips the jacket up, making sure the tank top is hidden well, then hugs me again.

I look to the corner, seeing the plastic tube just waiting for me. I walk over, pressing my fingers against the surface. It's cold, and I turn to see Cadderrick smiling sadly at me. I step inside the tube, looking up. All I see is sunlight. The tube begins to lift, and all the Tributes come into view. As well as the Arena. It's an enormous ring of jungle, surrounded by desert. Basically, a giant O, is what it looks like. My eyes immediately go to Wes, who is searching for me. The girl from District 3 is having a full blown panic attack. She wheezes and screams and cries, trembling in place and yelling that she doesn't want to die.

Poor thing... I would do the same if I was only 12, and I was about 4 feet tall, going into the Games with a bunch of towering mutants like this year's Tributes. My eyes then shift to the golden Cornucopia. It's overflowing with supplies, weapons, and packs. I come up with a daring plan that just might work... My mind shifts gears, and I nod slowly. As soon as the countdown reaches two seconds, I'll jump. As far as I can. The plates only go off when you step onto the grass... Right? So if I jump, I might be able to make it.

I'll be able to grab the jacket full of knives that hangs over a box, completely opened up. Then, I'll take off for the desert... Yeah. The countdown reaches five seconds, and I wait... 4... 3... 2... I dive right there, covering my neck and my head. I hear the explosion behind me, and my feet dig into the damp soil. I take off running, and then the gong sounds. The Tributes begin running after me, and Evon is heading my way. I soar over the grass, diving as I grab the jacket. I pull it over me, then feel someone tackle me. It's the girl from 12...

She grabs a knife from the arm of my jacket, grinning at me. She slowly pushes the knife against my neck, and the blade is freezing cold. I squeal, and try to shake her off. But since she's taller, and her knees are digging into my palms, I can't move. I yell louder, fighting for my strength, but adrenaline has fled my body in a hurry. I then feel a shower coming from above, and I instantly close my mouth. The taste of blood... Ugh, gross. The District 12 girl collapses on me, blood covering my face.

I shove her off, then stand and see Evon charging for me. "That's my kill!" She screams.

I grab my knife and her pack from Ember's lifeless carcass, and take off. I pant and wheeze as I continue to run, not daring to look back or even stop running. I dash across a fallen log, then crash through some bushes, going tumbling down a hill into a random river. I yelp, standing up as the freezing cold water soaks my clothes. I shiver, then dig through Ember's pack and get two water bottles out of the first compartment.

I fill the water, fishing out the iodine, and drip a few drops in the water. I shake up the waters, and set them inside my pack. I sigh, then begin up the other side of the little hill. The desert sits at my feet, and I walk on. I search through my pack again, continuing my walk, and pull out a little bag of raspberries. I dump a few in my hand, close the bag, and put it back in my pack. I eat the raspberries one by one, savoring every bite. I've never enjoyed raspberries so much in my life...

I find myself lost in thought, thinking of Wes and my home, the District 3 girl, Evon, and her gang. When I notice it's already dusk. I frown, then shake my head. To think it's actually scarier in the Arena is ironic, really. Since they broadcast it all around Panem. I don't feel _too_ alone. Snapped out of thought once more, I feel a yank on my ankle, and my toes are dangling over a giant gaping hole in the ground.

The grip on my ankle pulls me down, and I scream as I scramble back. I hate surprises! I shake my ankle viciously, and then hear a quiet, hopeless moan... It's the girl from District 3... She whispers for help in a coarse, scratchy voice. I bend down, helping her from the bloody ditch. She shimmers in crimson red liquid, soaked from the waist down. Her clothes are covered in it, and even her face. I stare down at her, and then she hugs my waist tight.

She clings to me, helplessly. Her body trembles, and she just buries her face in my arms. I look down at her, slowly deciding to hug her back. Her body shakes more violent than I've ever known humanly possible, and I slowly stroke her blood spatted hair. I slowly kneel down, being slightly shorter than her on my knee. She shakes and cries, and I move the hair from her face. She slowly looks at me, eye to eye. Her gaze is full of fear, and curiosity. Admiration, mostly.

She wipes at her tear streaked face, and I frown. "You okay?" I ask quietly.

I brush more light brown strands from her delicate, sweet face. She nods slowly, looking down.

"I fell down while I was running, and some boy had already fallen in there... I thought I was going to drown in his blood... And mine..." She whispers, bringing a pair of light green emerald optics to look at me.

I grab her hand, and lead her out to nowhere. I search until I find a weird structure of rock. The back of the structure is one big rock, sitting on top of it is another rock, and on both sides, two rocks to hold it up. It's sitting low, so the entrance is really tiny, and hard to get in. But the District 3 girl slips through with ease.

I slide the packs under to her, and then go inside myself. It's dry, and cold in there. There's a tiny opening in the ceiling, but it's big enough for you to see the sky as the Capitol anthem blares out. Both from Four are dead, both from Five, the girl from Six, the girl from Seven, the boy from Eight, the boy from Nine, and the Tributes from Twelve. Ten gone on the first day. I sigh, then turn down to the girl who sits huddled in the corner.

"Can I see what you've got in your pack?" I ask.

The girl slowly crawls over, setting her pack in front of me. I unzip the top, looking into the pack. I pull out a tiny, silver capsule, and unscrew the lid. I find a shimmering clear paste inside, and I wave her over. She lifts up the back of her shirt, and I slab the paste across the wound. The girl smiles in relief, and then takes a quiet, tiny breath.

"My name is Robin... Thank you for saving me..." She says quietly.

"You're welcome." I whisper, watching as she pulls out a sleeping bag and lies it out next to me, curling up and resting her head on my lap.

I smile at her, then look out the entrance of the cave, scooting back to lean against the wall of the cave. Robin closes her eyes, then drifts off peacefully. After a while, I get sort of hungry, and I pull out my pack, opening it up and beginning to chew on some dried meat. I take a sip of my water, and then look down to Robin. She trembles in my lap, shivering and bringing her tiny hands to her face in little fists. I watch as she curls up in a ball, her head still resting on my lap.

I pull off my jacket, resting it over her and instantly stopping her shivering. I smile, then look out to the mouth of the cave again. The night is peaceful, and the air is sweet and cool. I smile, resting my head against the cave wall, and begging to drift into the darkness... I don't remember how great sleep is, until I'm finally pulled into the dark...

_A Few Hours Later -_

I awake to the sound of footsteps crunching on the rocks in the sand outside the cave. Instantly, I'm wide awake, my heart pounding in my chest. The footsteps come closer, and there's not only one Tribute... It's many. Then, I hear it. The Career's voices come into range, and I fall still and silent.

"When we find her... I get to slit her throat to shreds, all by myself! Nobody even touch her!" Evon's voice sounds out, full of rage as she kicks the sand and rocks.

I watch her feet pass by the cave entrance, and then another Career begins to light a fire right outside the cave. I suck in a silent, deep breath, and begin to think up my final will. I listen harder, though. And Ethan's voice rings out.

"Fine by me." He confirms in a mellow state, just as the girl and boy from Two speak up.

"Yeah." The male says.

"Sure thing, Evon." The female voice is dark and raspy, and I look out quietly.

I see they've stopped and sat in a circle around the blazing fire that Ethan is stirring up. He pokes a stick, making the embers crack and spark, and then stands up, walking around the camp. Patrolling, probably, judging by the axe he carries on his shoulder. He whistles a casual tune, striding around in slow circles surrounding the camp.

I watch with my breath held, Evon sharpening her knives as she leans against a rock. The girl from Two, who I hear Ethan call Kage, warms her palms over the fire, revealing a silhouette of her face in a low orange hue. The boy from Two, Ace, sets up some sort of dinner for the pack, cooking it over the fire. I suddenly begin to wish I was in the Career pack, getting food and protection at no cost. And then I look down to Robin, and instantly regret thinking about that... She'd be dead without me... The poor girl.

"How'd she get a twelve, anyway?!" Kage yells, spitting into the fire and making it hiss. The flames continue to rage, though.

"Hell, wish I knew... It must've been pretty damn good to get a twelve." Evon snarls, the chilling sound of blade on blade letting out into the silence as she sharpens her knife angrily.

Goosebumps run down my spine, and I shuffle in my crouched position, almost completely falling over. I scuffle in the dirt, slowly regaining my balance. But it was too loud... Loud enough, anyway. Evon stands up, turning the knife blade over into her palm.

"Shh..." Evon smirks, "She's here..." Crossing behind Ethan, Evon begins searching around with Kage.

"Come on, Flower Girl... Come out to play... We horse around, but it will only hurt until you're dead..." Evon says in a bloodcurdling voice.

Robin slowly awakes, smacking her lips together and rubbing her vibrant brown eyes. She's made no sound, luckily, but then she talks.

"What's happening?" She asks, sending an echo through the small cave.

"Shh!" I hiss, throwing the packs over my shoulders.

I slip under the cave entrance, dragging Robin with me. I throw her over my shoulder and bolt from the scene. I head towards the jungle, hoping the thick foliage will keep them busy searching. And Evon begins to cuss and scream.

"Get her! Go!" She yells at the top of her lungs, tearing after me with the other Careers.

Robin bounces around on my shoulder, making squeaky noises while I run. I force myself to run as fast as I can, but my lungs are begging for air, and my vision is getting a little blurry. But I force myself to run in overdrive, until we get back to the jungle. I notice the footsteps behind me have only faded to three, and Evon is still leading the pack. I stumble, and collapse down a curving hill from the combined weight of the packs and Robin on my shoulders.

Robin shrieks, and I feel a pain tear through my leg. I scream out as well, and Robin quickly pulls the knife from my leg. She turns around, facing the Careers as she stands in front of me. She turns the knife over, and flings it with her eyes closed. For somebody who doesn't know what they're doing, I couldn't be more proud as the knife hits Ace right in the neck, sending him flying backwards.

The cannon booms out, filling my ears as well as Evon's screams. She collapses at his side, dislodging the knife from his neck and turning it over. Robin swiftly ducks as the knife goes flying at her.

"Go!" She screams at me.

Robin goes running at Evon, and just as she's about to lunge, a dark, tall figure snatches her up, and flees the scene. It disappears from sight, entering the darkness of the brush, and I scream and reach my hand out for a knife as Evon crushes down on my back with her combat boots.

I reach further to the air, trying to pull the figure back. Trying to get it to come and save _me_ as well. Evon yanks my head up by the hair, sitting on my back. She has me pinned, and I know I'm doomed to die...

"Any last words for your little friend, or your best friend?" Evon asks with a twisted grin on her face.

And then, it reappears through the brush. I pant heavily, sucking in air as Evon is shoved backwards and I'm lifted up, rushed through the foliage towards Robin, and plunged into the darkness and the cool ambiance of another cave. This one is much bigger, and concealed into the ground. I look around as the light adjusts, and make out two heavily breathing figures.

Suddenly, Rowen's dark voice comes out in the dark. "I got her... You got the small one?" He asks in a panting way, setting me up against the wall of the cave.

"Yup." I hear another voice reply, and then I see, it's none other than my best friend, Wes...


End file.
